


Such a Human Thing

by GretchenSinister



Series: My Top Ten Blackice Fics [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Frustration, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "Jack became the spirit of winter when he was still a teenager, and that means he’s got hormones to spare. But since he’d been in this form, every time he’s tried to touch himself to take care of the problem, he gets worked up. And when he gets worked up, he overheats. And when he overheats, his brain goes all fuzzy, like he has a high fever and he just. Can. Not. FINISH.300 years of frustration later, he still can’t help trying every now and then, and Pitch catches him at it once or twice (or more?) and works out what’s going on. For whatever reason – maybe he gets off on the power trip or wants to see Jack begging? – he decides to help out. With the aid of a lot of ice cubes, they manage to bring Jack over the edge and keep him pretty coherent while they’re doing it. Can range anywhere from fully consensual “Oh my god just do something PLEASE,” to dubcon; up to you, anon.+1000000 if Pitch actually does make Jack beg and really, really takes his time with it."Pitch helps Jack out with his problem, for reasons that have nothing to do with what Jack thinks. (In other words, more psychologically unhealthy BlackIce!)
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Series: My Top Ten Blackice Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552192
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: Blackice Short Fics





	Such a Human Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 6/3/2013.

It’s beautiful, how afraid Jack is that he’ll stop. He won’t, of course. The fear of him stopping will segue quite neatly into a fear that he won’t do this again after he’s done. He sighs, and Jack whimpers. Solicitously, Pitch presses a handful of snow onto his forehead. Poor foolish boy. Still so young. Still wanting such a human thing as an orgasm. Still human enough that his fears are as restorative as decades of dreamless sleep.

Pitch lets a grin stretch his face, not bothering to downplay how predatory he knows he looks. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack’s cock throb, sees Jack’s hands twitch towards it, desperately wanting to try to bring himself release as he always tries, jerking himself as fast as he can before he gets too overheated and ill to continue. It never works. Pitch has seen him try and fail several times—after three hundred years Pitch would suppose he’d get the idea and stop, but the fact that he keeps trying is perhaps the most beautiful thing about this immortal teenager.

He is foolish enough to keep repeating actions that harmed him, merely on the unfulfilled promise of some future pleasure. Yes, this was something Pitch liked very much about Jack.

Combined with the delightfully misguided lust the boy felt for Pitch’s physical form, it could prove to be a most _nourishing_ quality.

“Now, now, Jack,” he murmurs, trailing icy gray fingers wet with melted snow down the boy’s smooth chest. “Remember that you can’t do this yourself. Remember what we agreed.” He traces Jack’s hipbones and the boy clenches his fists, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip.

“My, you seem rather worked up, don’t you? I shall wait to touch you then—we wouldn’t want this to be over too quickly, would we?” Honestly, Pitch couldn’t care less, though Jack’s fear when he imagines how long Pitch could prolong this is intriguing. He moves his snow-chilled hands along Jack’s inner thighs, kneading and caressing until a small, needy keen escapes from Jack’s lips. At that, he stops.

“What was that, Jack? Do you have a dissenting opinion?” Jack opens his eyes to stare at Pitch, the hint of a fever-gleam in his gaze. Pitch scoops up a handful of snow and presses it over Jack’s heart, holding it there as it slowly melts until he can feel the boy’s frantic heartbeats beneath his palm. “Any ideas, Jack? I have a few.” With one hand still on Jack’s chest, he picks up another handful of snow, eating it in small bites, humming with pleasure as he swallows.

As he expects, this just about makes Jack lose what little mind he has left, and a torrent of words bursts from the boy’s mouth. “Please Pitch please please Pitch please just let me come wanted so long waited so long need you want you please touch me I’ve dreamed about your hands—” Pitch almost laughs aloud.

Instead, he merely smirks, muttering “No patience in the young,” just loud enough for Jack to hear.

Alternating snow-cooled hands on Jack’s cock, Pitch strokes him with a firm and steady rhythm that has him coming within a scant few minutes. His cry of relief and release is a lovely thing, but not nearly as glorious as the spike of fear that follows, as Jack realizes he will have to rely on Pitch to feel anything of the sort again, Pitch thinks as he cleans his hands in the snow.

Asking another Guardian doesn’t seem to cross his mind. Jack still thinks of this as dirty, Pitch can tell. Why let him see him like this otherwise? It’s insulting, but Pitch doesn’t really mind. If Jack was more comfortable with himself, he wouldn’t have so many wonderful fears roiling in him as he sought release with Pitch.

Pitch would endure much worse insults for the sake of those tastes.

He leaves Jack in the snow without a word, smiling at the fear and confusion directed at his retreating back. Jack thinks that the next time he seeks Pitch out, Pitch will want to do something strange and terrible for his own pleasure.

_Ah, but don’t you see, Jack? I already am._


End file.
